[Rescue2001]

Here you go probably my best roan so hope you like him

Username: Naeco
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Gender: Colt

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[Naeco]

username: Naeco
Name: Fear of the Past // Picaso
Halter color: Light Tan Leather

Could I have a transparent copy of him please?

[Naeco]

First Encounter

1,772 Words


I had actually began my journey the previous night, driving 12 straight hours in the dark. It was quite a trip from my large ranch to the Nevada BLM Mustang Corrals. Currently 4 a.m. , I was exhausted from the crazy long drive on mostly empty highways and backroads. My whole entire trip to Nevada, I may have only seen about 30-40 cars. I had another 20 miles left to go before I would be at the corrals. About two miles away from where I was currently at was a mom-and-pop restaurant that I remembered from my research of the area. I decided to stop in and get something to eat and waste some time before I went over to pick up my mustang. Names. Names. What would I name it? Lizya, Cash, Remi? Naw, I couldn't use those. I have horses at home with those names. sigh

I looked down at my watch after finishing my bagels and coffee. 5:30 a.m. Wow, I have wasted a lot of time here. The BLM corrals do not open for registration and paperwork until 6:30 a.m. and I was only 10-20 minutes away from the corrals. I decided to pull out my binder of paperwork for this new addition and review everything. The binder opened up to reveal a checklist that I had made weeks before hitting the road. The list read as followed:

- Rope Halter and Lead
- Hay
- Buckets
- Grain
- Muck Bucket
- Bl......

"Here is the bill, ma'am. Is everything okay?"

"Why yes, thank you," I replied to the waitress, quite startled. "I'm sorry, I arrived quite early to my destination."

"Huh, destination?" The waitress was very confused and a bit snotty. A quick glance at the sleeve of her shirt gave me valuable information: her name was Jenny. "No one just comes here. I take it you are part of the mustang thing, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am. I will be picking up my horse shortly."

"Good, get those ignorant pests out of these lands." She stormed off, not even taking the check I wrote for the food. Hmmm I thought. Not many people like these horses, do they? I was not entirely sure what I was getting into but glancing down at my watch, I was soon to find out.

Within 15 minutes, I was entering the several mile long dirt-road to the ranch house. There were long pastures on either side of the barely two-lane red road. Each pasture was lined with barb wire attached to metal poles and old trees. Several of the trees had grown through the barb wire. This scenery gave the ranch a very old-style cowboy feel to it. The pasture to my right held a large herd of maybe 20 to 30 horses. The horses were mostly solid duns and bays with a few pinto and appaloosas. They were running, chasing my truck as it went down the road. I laughed at their free spirit and glanced to the left. This pasture had some tame Quarter Horses in it. A few of them were very old with large swaybacks. Others were heavily pregnant; one already had her colt. Most of the Quarter Horses were chestnut colored and very few were black or dun colored. This also made me grin: it was always great to see ranches keeping their older horses beyond their working days.

As I got closer to the end of the road, I saw more and more fencing with wood rather than the barb wire and metal mess of before. The wood was rotted, old, and lined with the barb wire at first. However, the closer I got the nicer the wood and fencing became. After about 3 miles of dirt road, it slowly transitioned to gravel and then later on to asphalt. Not only did the fencing and the road get nicer, the horses became better as well. There were Thoroughbreds, Hanoverians, and many types of warmbloods and sport horses. I was quite confused and as I got closer, I became more and more nervous that I was somehow at the wrong spot and trespassing. The barn came into sight and it was clear that is was a prestigious English barn. The house was more of a mansion and was a brick style house with white trim. Pulling into the parking lot of the barn, I grabbed my binder and flipped through pages until I got to the directions and location of the pick-up for the mustang. Well, I thought after reviewing the material I am at the right spot. I decided to take the risk, hoping out of my truck and walking into the barn.

"Hello?" I hollered softly. Hearing footsteps, I turned around to an older man with a cowboy hat and western attire.

"You're the girl looking for that mustang, aren't ya?" His voice was old and worn as was his body.

"Yes sir, you are Miles, correct?"

"Yes, yes I am. Now come with me Ashley. I will show you your mustang."

I followed this old man through the English barn. Aisles after aisles of horses and around a huge indoor arena equipped with mirrors and everything, this place was huge. Towards the end of the English barn, the man turned around and said, "Yes, I know you are probably confused about this old cowboy in an English environment. Here is the story. This used to be my sister's barn and she was some English wizz. Unfortunately, two years ago, she died of cancer and I was on the will for the barn. I took over and am trying to keep this place up to the standards my sis did. I am failing her. I am too much of a cowboy. But that is why I help the mustangs, cause I am a cowboy."

I gently replied, " I am sorry for your loss, and you are in no way failing her. You took over the barn and are trying your best instead of selling it or letting it go. I am proud of you." This caused him to smile and be uplifted a bit. He turned around and continued on his way and I followed.

The end of the barn opened up to a small, half acre pasture adjacent and attached to a round pen. In the pasture was a brown horse with a black mane and tail. It was a very odd color, not quite bay. His legs must be covered in mud or maybe he had an extremely dark brown mane and tail. It was a bit of a mystery. I walked up to the fence and stood to watch the mustang.

"Male, just about 4 or 5 years old. 11.3 hh, more of a pony than anything." Miles walked to the end of the round pen and messed with a lock and key. "There you go, it's unlocked. If I were you, I would drive your truck around the barn and back your trailer up to the round pen. Then I would herd him into the pen to load him up. Good luck, ma'am." He then walked off, leaving me alone with my new project.

I watched him for a bit, trying to figure him out. He exceeded my expectations as I was quite nervous about him being so small. His stocky body had a surprisingly fluid movement to it. He had quite the personality too. Stopping at the far corner of the pasture, he tossed his head and did a half-rear, tossing his mane. He was smart, I could see that, and observant. Knowing I was there, he would occasionally look back as he galloped around and hopped over patches of grass.

After watching him for a bit, I got the truck and backed the trailer into position, connecting the round pen and the trailer. I grabbed the lead rope, closed off the trailer, and walked into the pasture. The horse stomped his foot and trotted around me in a 10 foot circle. Smart boy, I thought He'll be easy to teach how to lunge. A few minutes later, he stopped trotting and walked towards me, very curious and cautious at the same time. I stood entirely still and he came close enough for me to feel his hard breathing and snorting. His face had a small star lined with black and his ears were black as well. Hmmm, What a mystery I reached my hand out to the mustang. He snorted, shoved his face into my hand, and trotted off again, into a circle. I stood and watched him, being very patient. About this time, Miles came back over again, wondering what was taking me so long to leave.

I then spoke my first words to the horse. "Easy boy, easy." Shockingly, he responded. He slowed down and walked into a stand still facing me. I then pulled a small treat out of my pocket and laid my hand flat. The mustang came over and happily took the treat. He stood still as I draped the lead over his neck. I took this opportunity to give him a scratch on his withers. Doing so caused him to toss his head in enjoyment and also caused mud to fall off his shoulder, revealing white and blue spots underneath. This is when I realized his color was no longer a mystery, my mustang was a blue roan with some sort of white markings.

Grinning, I gently asked for him to come with me. He was hesitant, as expected. I grabbed another small treat and lured him a few steps forward, to which I rewarded him. Asking him again to walk forward, he got the concept and happily followed me into the round pen. I shut the gate, gave him a reward, and let him loose. The round pen's flooring was sand and dirt, no grass. I was thankful for this as I was able to toss treats towards the trailer. He ate each one, coming closer and closer until he had to reach his head into the trailer. Once he ate the treat, he looked up and saw the net full of hay hanging in the corner of the trailer. He was instantly interested and walked right in to sniff the haynet. Realizing it was food, he soon became content as I closed up the trailer and loaded up.

"That is one heck of a horse, " said Miles with a surprised look. He then took out his wallet and handed me a card. "Keep in touch, I want to know where that horse goes."

I then drove off on the long trip home.

[Naeco]

Adjusting to the new home

174 Words, 1 Unshaded Colored Digital Art Piece

It has been a week since I brought the mustang home. I have not done much with him in that week since I wanted him to adjust before I work with him. His show name became Fear of the Past due to his fears of things like helicopters, lassos, and whips; all of the things of his past. Still didn't have a barn name though, I wanted to see his coloring first. That was my goal of the day, to get him groomed up.




After a good grooming, I stood in awe of his coat color. He almost looks like a Picasso painting, abstract.... That's it! I will call him Picasso!

I quickly put everything up and ran into the barn office. As I pulled the mustang's files, I sat down and went through the paperwork. I quickly read the naming rules and saw something that stopped me abruptly. "No horse is allowed to be named the direct name of a famous person." Well, that's easy, I'll just remove an "s". Picaso it was.

[Naeco]

Introduction of the halter
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[Naeco]

First friend
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[Naeco]

Gaining your pony's trust
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[Naeco]

First time with saddle
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[Naeco]

Training
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[Naeco]

First Ride
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